


When the Moon rises

by lizc



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Boys In Love, Fluff, High School Student Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Pack Feels, Sexual Tension, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves, Slow Build, Stiles Comes Back, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski Gets Bitten, Teacher Derek Hale, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-08 13:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10387986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizc/pseuds/lizc
Summary: Stiles is a lonely highschool boy and Derek is an attractive English teacher with an appreciation of moles and whiskey eyes. When Stiles leaves abruptly during freshman year, Derek can't help but wonder where the beautiful boy went. Three years later, a familiar face arrives back in Beacon Hills.orAU where Stiles is a lonely high schooler and leaves, comes back, and shocks everyone, including his then and now English teacher Derek Hale.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! my name is Elizabeth. if you guys have any suggestions just let me know in the comments. thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Stiles was alone. A lot.

He sat in the back of all of his classes, glasses perched high on his nose, and a number two pencil with the eraser bitten off always between his four front teeth.

He was placed in honors classes, when he shouldn’t be. Stiles was smart; almost as smart as Lydia Martin. His mind was an amusement park, one with lights that never shut off. Stiles was always thinking, always worrying, always planning ahead.

So when lunch came around, and Stiles snuck into the boy’s bathroom with an apple and a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich, he knew how the thirty-minute period would go. He would sit in the handicapped stall, pull out his pristine edition of _To Kill A Mockingbird_ and would read until the shriek of Beacon Hills High School’s bell rang in his ears.

Sometimes, things didn’t go to plan. Like, when Stiles planned to get a 96 on his English vocabulary test and wound up getting a 56. That day, he was thinking about what he was going to do about dinner, because there was no food in his small apartment.

And, the same thing happened again today. He was walking with his lunch and book into the boy’s bathroom, when a large hand grabbed onto Stiles’ shoulder. He was thrown against the brick wall, groaning at the wave of pain that pulsed through his skull.

“Stiles…still looking as ugly as ever. Have you saved up enough money to remove those warts from your face yet? Wait, that’s a dumb question. You couldn’t even get enough money to pay for your mother’s funeral,”

Jackson Whittemore snarled at Stiles, his eyes glowing with rage, directly at the younger boy. His fist smashed into the young boy’s face. Stiles' breath hitched, a lump of anxiety forming in his throat. He gasped for breath as he slid down the brick wall, holding his throat and retching from lack of oxygen.

Stiles’ hands began to shake, his fingertips turning blue. He could feel how erratic his heartbeat was. The panic attacks had started when his mother died, and every time he had one, they seemed to get worse.

Stiles looked up at Jackson and watched the smirk on the star Lacrosse player’s lips widen with every shake of Stiles’ body. The pounding in his head was crushing his skull, and his vision was spotting, slowly turning black.

“What the hell is goin-- oh my god, Stiles!” A deep voice roared through the crowd of teenagers taking pictures and videos.

Before Stiles could look up at the man, he slipped out of consciousness and floated into the warmth of velvety black darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! thank you guys so much for the kudos! it really inspires me to keep going. if anyone is confused or has anything they want to say, just comment below!

Derek was a bold man.

Throughout his entire life, he had always been determined. When he wanted something, he reached for it; every single time. And on Tuesday during lunch, it was no different. His honors English 11 student Stiles was laying on the floor with blood coating his face and dripping off of his chin.

The gasp that left Derek shocked himself. Seeing the lanky, intelligent boy so vulnerable made something inside of Derek's heart clench. Jackson continued to taunt the young boy until Derek finally realized what he was doing.

He rushed over to Stiles, gently putting his hand underneath Stiles' chin. His eyes were closed, lids only sliding up slightly at the shake of his head. His pupils were blown and his crystal brown eyes were hazy and unclear. His limbs were weak and still, something that was rare for the boy.

Derek snapped his head back towards Jackson and watched as the smirk on his face dropped when he noticed Mr. Hale's burning green eyes lock with his own.

"Afterschool detention from 2:30 to 4:30 starting tomorrow for the next week. If I even see you look at Stiles for more than a second, I will get you suspended. Understand?" Derek's voice was deep and strong, showing no signs of any room for argument.

The older boy shuddered and bolted from the scene. Derek turned his head back to Stiles and internally winced. The teacher picked up Stiles, being careful not to hurt him or put him in an uncomfortable position.

The walk to the Nurse's office was slow and painfully awkward. Derek could feel the burning stares of his students as he carried the 14 year old boy in his arms.

"Hey, Rosa. Stiles got beat up again," Mr. Hale let out a puff of breath, his face expressing how disturbed and angry he truly was.

"It's a shame. The poor kid is in here at least once a day. Always asking for Adderall for his ADHD,"

Derek only nodded and moved his gaze over to the boy. Mr. Hale placed Stiles on one of the nurse's uncomfortable blue plush beds. When Stiles was finally in a comfortable position, Derek took his hand. His veins instantly began to turn black, taking away all of the boy's physical pain. His eyes flashed bright blue; it hurt, but not too bad. Mr. Hale stared at Stiles in wonder. His moles were like stars contrasting against the sky. Mr. Hale stared at the boy's red, rosy lips and clusters of freckles that danced on his cheeks. Derek shook his head quickly and tried to replace the thoughts of his beautiful student to how much homework he was giving his freshman class.

After ten minutes of waiting, Mr. Hale decided to leave Stiles in the care of Ms. Rosa. His head hung low as he treaded back to his English room.

And, for the rest of the day, all he could picture was milky white skin and dark brown spots. Oh, how badly Derek wanted to take that boy and touch every inch of him. He could image connecting all of his moles with his tongue, tracing out constellations on Stiles' skin. And, before he knew it, Derek's pants were tented behind his desk with twenty-four freshmen staring at him with wide eyes and slacked jaws.

Mr. Hale coughed and started at the top page of _Oedipus the King_ , but never stopped feeling the burn of the stares of his fourteen year old students.

When the click hit 1:55pm, the Beacon Hills High School bell rang. Once all of the freshmen flooded out of his classroom, Derek sprinted down the halls to Ms. Rosa's office.

"Hey Rosa, I was just wondering if--"

"He left fifteen minutes ago. When he woke up he screamed, grabbed all of his things, and bolted out the door. I couldn't exactly tell what was wrong with him, but he was shaking and I think his nose was bleeding. When I tried to get him to stay, he ripped himself out of my grip and left. I've never seen anything like it before. To be honest, it scared me. Stiles scared the crap out of me,"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! quick warning... this chapter may trigger some. read at your own risk. thank you so much for the comments. they made me so happy!

When Stiles woke up, he screamed.

The pain that crashed into him was worse than anything he had ever felt before. He could feel blood start trickling down his face and feel the droplets drip from his nose and vertically slide down his lips. His chest constricted and his skin turned clammy with sweat. White hot flashes of pain stabbed every inch of his skin.

Stiles was quick to jump out of the nurse's bed and grab his stuff. Panic was swelling in his throat, causing his head to pound more than it already was.

All he could think about was his pills; he was supposed to take them at 1:25, and it was currently 2:03. His boy was shaking, his hands trembling so hard he could barely lift up his backpack. Stiles left the small bedroom and walked through the main lobby of the nurse's office, making his steps light.

"Stiles, why're you leaving?"

When he turned around, Ms. Rosa gasped and raised a hand to her mouth.

"Stiles... come sit down,"

Stiles' amber eyes turned almost black, his pupils blown wide. A scream left the boy when Rosa grabbed onto his wrist. Scorching heat raced up Stiles' arms. He ripped his arm out of her grip and stumbled out of the office. He bolted out of the high school building. He gripped his backpack harder against his shoulders and sprinted towards his home.

When Stiles arrived at the apartment complex, he leaned against the brick entrance to catch his breath. The school was only a few miles away from his apartment. Once he could breath normally, he barged into the lobby. He ran up three flights of stairs, opened his door, and flung himself into his bedroom. There, he could be free.

Stiles screamed, so loud his own ears began to ring. He screamed until his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen flowing through him.

He walked towards the large, wooden chest adjacent to his bed. In the second drawer, underneath his folded plaid shirts, lay his bottle.

One bottle of Oxycodone.

Two months ago, Stiles was working with his dad on his mother's blue jeep that he was almost old enough to drive. Sheriff Stilinski had slammed the hood of the jeep down, thinking the boy had moved. He hadn't. The hood smashed into Stiles' shoulder, shattering a bone in his collar.

Stiles spent a month in the hospital, doing exercises, gaining his strength back, and learning how to deal with the pain. The injury damaged Stiles' nerves system, causing him to feel more pain than an injury like this would give.

After he regained almost all of his strength back, the doctor prescribed him with Oxycodone to help with the pain. Of course, his doctor had given him a huge lecture about addiction and recovery from the opioid, and like the good kid Stiles was, listened to his every word.

But here he was, taking out his pills, crushing them up, and shoveling the powder into his mouth. The instant pain relief calmed every nerve in his body. His nose stopped bleeding, his head stopped pounding, and the lump of anxiety in Stiles' throat dissolved.

His eyes began to close, and on the floor of his bedroom, he slipped into darkness; this time, by his own hand.


	4. Chapter 4

When Derek arrived at work the next day, he was surprised to find Stiles' desk empty.

His ears perked up at the sound of Lydia Martin's rude comments about the boy.

"He probably realized that he'll never beat me for valedictorian. He might as well quit while he's ahead,"

Derek gave Lydia extra homework and a glare menacing enough to send her six feet under.

Throughout the day, Derek couldn't stop thinking about the poor boy. He had seen Stiles beaten up before, but something about what Jackson said made Derek's stomach ache with anger. The look on Stiles' face at the mention of his mother was so full of pain and grief that it made Derek's eyes well with tears.

At 2:30, Jackson arrived at detention, complaining the entire two hours.

"Have you actually seen the kid, Mr. Hale? He is the ugliest kid in our school. We had a vote about it last month, and everyone voted him as the worst. Even his old friend Scott and his new girlfriend Allison. Did you know that he killed his mom? Apparently when she was in the hospital on life support, he pulled out the plugs to the machine. They say he did it because no one was paying attention to him anymore. How pathetic is that,"

Derek's fists were clenched by his side so tightly they turned white.

When the detention period was over, Derek rushed Jackson out and grabbed his things, running to his car and pulling out of Beacon Hills High School.

Derek arrived home, and when he finally sat down at his kitchen table, he screamed. For the last four months, he has seen the pale skinned boy slowly lose himself. His marble brown eyes slowly lost their glint, his skin began to look transparent, his body turned to skin and bones, and the dark circles under his eyes took up 1/3 of his face. Yet, he was still the most beautiful thing Derek had ever seen in his life.

And Derek had no idea what was wrong with him.

Stiles was a bright student, a genius even. He could do anything he set his mind to, yet for some reason, the boy gave up.

Braeden came home an hour later, smiling at her handsome boyfriend, oblivious to the inner turmoil that haunted him daily.

* * *

Sheriff Stilinski worked a lot.

It wasn't really his fault, because he's the sheriff, and everyone in the Beacon Hills County Police Station depended on him.

It was his first night off in a while, and he picked up some cheeseburgers and fries for himself and Stiles. He knew, the second his son saw the bag, he would be furious.

Since his mother died, the boy had been meticulous about his father's health. Kale, spinach, and tomatoes were a large part of the Sheriff's diet. But, he wouldn't have it any other way.

When the Sheriff opened the door to his apartment building and walked into Stiles' room, he had a reasonable assumption of what he would find. Stiles would be playing video games while simultaneously reading another chapter of his latest English book assignment. His comic books would be scattered all over the floor, and his bed would be unmade and his dirty clothes would cover most of the floor.

What Sheriff Stilinski found was nothing like he could have imagined.

His boy, his fourteen year old son, was laying in a pool of his own blood, his bottle of Oxycodone on the ground next to him, completely empty. His entire room was destroyed, like a tornado had come in and wrecked everything. Stiles' skin was pasty white and was shaking, his fingers trembling. Blood was still leaking out of his nose and ears.

The Sheriff's world stopped; Earth stopped spinning, the stars stopped shinning, his heart stopped beating. All he could see was his son's unconscious body laying in his own blood.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! I just wanted to let you all know that I'm slightly changing the story up a bit. most things aren't changing, just where the story really starts to take off and when Sterek actually starts off! hopefully you guys like it! in case you don't want to go back and re-read:  
> -through chapters 1-4, Stiles is fourteen, not sixteen  
> -the reason he has Oxy isn't because of a car accident, but because of a shoulder injury  
> \- the AU has changed a bit, and the plot is going to get a lot better, I promise!


	5. Chapter 5

Sheriff Stilinski scooped his son into his arms and ran out of their small apartment complex. Stiles' blood was dripping in the lobby, on the sidewalk, and in the Sheriff's car.

Noah's mind was clouded with images of Claudia clinging onto life. Flashes in his memory brought images of his wife's pale hands gripping onto his own, hours before she would leave this world and never come back.

He pictured ten-year old Stiles' voice, calling him while he was on duty, telling him that his mother was dead. That his wife, the woman he fell for in the tenth grade, was dead. The woman that helped him accomplish his dreams, that gave birth to his beautiful son, that always made his coffee right: hazelnut with a dash of milk and two sugars, was gone.

Sheriff Stilinski shook his head and glanced down at his unconscious son as he sped down the street, going at least 30 mph over the speed limit. He could see the hospital's bright red letters, only a short distance away. He pushed on the gas pedal, cutting off an ambulance and three other cars. At the first spot available, Noah parked the car and jumped to the passenger door, ignoring the blue handicap sign in front of his bumper.

He ripped the car door open, grabbed his son, and ran into the hospital. Noah let out a scream of agony when he felt Stiles go limp in his arms. He couldn't feel the steady beat of his pulse, or his soft shallow breath in and out of his nose.

Nurses and doctors swarmed the Sheriff, taking Stiles out of his grip. Questions shot out of their mouths like bullets. Noah's breath quickened as he watched the staff wheel his son away on a light blue gurney.

He could only catch small pieces of the doctors' conversation, the sound of his own hyperventilation and drumming heart drowning out their hushed whispers.

"... overdose... stomach pump... broken bones... signs of abuse... we're losing him people... get him into surgery now,"

Noah retched, vomit shooting out of him. Before he could even comprehend the thought of his life without Stiles, a nurse grabbed him and ushered him into a vacant room.

She smelled like coconuts and soft summer breeze. Her curly dark brown hair was tied into a messy ponytail and her chocolate eyes sparkled in concern.

"Sheriff Stilinski, right? My name is Melissa. Everything is going to be okay. Stiles is going to be fine. They're taking him into surgery, but it looks like he's going to be alright," Her eyes crinkled when she gave Noah a warm smile. The Sheriff's breaths evened out, and his heart slowly stopped drumming erratically. "There you go. You're doing great. I'm going to give you some medicine to calm you down. The surgery is going to take a while; you should get some rest. It'll make you sleepy,"

"Okay," Noah breathed, his breath hitching when Melissa gave him a big smile, her dimples peaking out from the corners of her lips.

She gave Noah the pills and watched him swallow them down. A few moments later, he lay on the stiff hospital bed sound asleep, dreaming of Stiles and Claudia laughing and playing outdoors.

* * *

The surgery took seven hours, but it went okay. Stiles was still under anesthesia when the lead doctor explained what had happened.

"He overdosed on Oxycodone. It seems that he took at least 15 pills, from what was not metabolized. He had a lot of cuts on his arms, most likely self-inflicted at the time he took the pills, and from at least a month and a half ago. Taking Adderall and Oxycodone had a damaged on his liver. He's going to have to take medication for the damage done to it.

After taking the Oxy, he fell into unconsciousness, When he fell, he landed on his wrist in an awkward position, causing it to basically snap in half. He has a major concussion, and there's evidence of fractures and sprains that didn't quite heal right. You know, of course, that I'm going to have to report that. His left shin is shattered. It looks like someone broke it either earlier today or yesterday. He'll need a cast for at least two months, and a cast for his wrist.

Your son has gone through a lot of trauma, Sheriff. I doubt it was you who could have done this to him. After Claudia's death, and the obvious beatings he's been getting, it might be best to take him away from here. Maybe move a couple towns over, or start home schooling. It might be what he needs to stop his addiction,"

And that's exactly what Sheriff Stilinski decided to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! Oooo, and the story really begins! thank you all for the kudos, comments, and hits! I never expected to get this kind of feedback, and it makes me feel so amazing to know how many of you like my story!


	6. Chapter 6

Mr. Hale had been concerned the first day Stiles was absent. The second day, he emailed the office, asking about his absence. When the calendar hit a week after the Stiles incident, Derek took matters into his own hands. When the school day had ended, along with Jackson's detention, the dark haired teacher raced towards his red Toyota Camry. He had been saving up for his dream car, a black Camaro since he was fifteen. In a few years, he would be able to afford a Camaro of his own.

Derek drove hastily towards the Stilinski's apartment complex. When he arrived, he ran a hand through his black hair and down his dark, well trimmed beard.

 _What're you even doing here, Derek? I'm pretty sure that this is considered stalking, especially because you're looking for a child, your **student**_.

Derek shook his head and continued into the building. The lobby was small and old; green flower wallpaper was peeling off of the walls. The elevator to other floors was rusted and squeaked every time the doors opened. Mr. Hale snuck past a sleeping homeless man and walked towards the elevators.

He glanced down at the printed out page from BHHS' secretary, describing Stiles and his home life. Derek gulped when he saw who Stiles' father was; Sheriff Stilinski.

Derek reached the third floor and walked towards the Stilinski's door. Mr. Hale took a deep breath and turned the copper door knob.

His confusion grew dramatically when the door swung right open. The entire apartment was empty.

Panic swelled in the twenty-two year old's chest. He ripped open empty drawers, flung empty closet doors open; he searched every inch of the apartment, and didn't find any trace of the Sheriff or his son.

Derek's phone vibrated, shaking him out of his dark thoughts. Derek pulled out his phone and checked his new email.

_Dear Mr. Hale, we regret to inform you that one of your freshman students, Mieczyslaw  "Stiles" Stilinski has moved out of Beacon Hills and transferred to another high school. We apologize for the inconvenience -Beacon Hills School Department_

* * *

The second that Stiles could leave the hospital, the Sheriff packed up all of their belongings, borrowed a rental truck, and took off as far from Beacon Hills as they could get.

Which wasn't very far. Noah was promised a job in Los Angeles, one that he couldn't resist. Stiles was going to need all the help they could get, and a well paying job would.

Noah expected the Stilinski clan to stay in Los Angeles until Stiles turned 18 and went to college; from there, the Sheriff, now Deputy in LA, would live out the rest of his days by the beach.

But, like always, things never go to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! sorry for the super short chapter, I just had to write a quick filler before the story really starts to roll! thank you all for the encouragement.


	7. Chapter 7

Los Angeles was good for Stiles.

There, he actually made friends. Rehabilitation went well; Stiles stayed at the center for seven months before realizing that his mother's death wasn't his fault. There, he realized that Scott stopped being friends with him on his own account. Stiles hadn't done anything wrong. He met Isaac Lahey, a boy from San Francisco who was abused by his father and turned to cocaine as an output. He met two sisters, Cora and Laura, who were both there because of a drinking problem. 

Together, they were a close knit circle of friends.

Isaac was the same age as Stiles, Cora was a year younger, and Laura was a year older. Stiles found himself drawn to Laura; he could sense an aura of power and authority, which were two things Stiles needed.

Isaac and Cora got along great. Every Friday night was movie night at the sister's apartment. They lived alone, with Laura being the main adult. When Stiles became a sophomore, and Cora moved up to the high school, everything fell into place. Stiles finally had supportive, loving friends. He was never alone, his dad came home at reasonable hour, and together they were much happier.

Everything was absolutely perfect, until it wasn't.

* * *

It was Friday night during Junior year when Laura got the call.

They were watching The Impossible, tears welling in Stiles' eyes when Laura's obnoxious ring tone interrupted the emotional scene.

"Laura," Isaac whined, nudging her towards the silver iPhone 4s ringing on the coffee table.

Laura let out a giggle and grabbed her phone, sliding the green phone icon right.

"Hello?" A moment later, the phone slid out of her grip. She looked over to Cora and whispered "Peter's awake,"

Cora bolted out of her seat and began packing her bags, not once looking at Stiles or Isaac. Laura began to do the same, packing most of their personal belongings.

"L-Laura, what's going on?" Isaac whimpered out. She was the group's leader, the glue that held everyone together. If she left, it would destroy Isaac and Stiles.

The sisters ignored the boys' desperate pleas. Cora flew out the door and down the stairs before Isaac or Stiles could say anything.

Stiles' chest swelled with panic, and before he could think about it, he had grabbed Laura and cornered her onto the balcony. He used his body to block Laura's sight of the glass slide door.

"Laura you c-can't leave, please d-don't leave,"

Laura looked pained at the tears that were welling in Stiles' eyes.

"Stiles you don't understand. I have to go,"  
  
"No!" Stiles yelled, rushing over to Laura. They were on the seventh floor, and the rail to the balcony was not sturdy. It proved not to be, because when Stiles charged at Laura, and Laura dogged him, Stiles flew into the rail; he knocked it over, and was falling.

And Laura, being Laura, did what she had to do to save Stiles. She leaned over the balcony, and sunk her teeth into the younger boy's forearm, her eyes flashing bright red as her canines pierced through Stiles' skin.


	8. Chapter 8

Laura pulled Stiles up from the balcony, trying her best to ignore the younger boy's screams of agony. Warm blood was pouring out of Stiles' forearm. She grabbed onto the boy and pulled him into the living room. Isaac whimpered and stepped back when Laura walked back into the apartment.

"Laura what happened to Stiles?"

She gave Isaac a weak smile and lay Stiles onto the sisters' beige couch.

Laura waited a few moments until Stiles calmed down. She motioned for Isaac to sit down, and turned to the side to text Cora.

_**I may have accidentally turned Stiles... come back upstairs asap.** _

Within a minute, Cora had busted through the door and stared at Laura in shock. Her eyes glanced down at Stiles' bite; Cora bit her lip to hide a snide smirk.

"Well, I guess we had better tell them now,"

Laura growled at Cora, her eyes flashing bright red. Cora gulped and sat down next to Isaac, giving him a comforting smile when he took a step back. Once everyone had relaxed, she took a deep breath and finally spilled the sisters' darkest secret.

"Isaac, Stiles. What I'm about to tell you guys is something that should never be repeated. We are... werewolves. I know, it sounds totally stupid and it sounds like a joke, but I promise you that it isn't. I'm an alpha; the leader of my pack. Cora is my beta, the second is command. There are three power positions in a pack: Alpha, Beta, and Omega. If you don't have a pack, you are considered an omega. Werewolves are not vicious creatures. We have strengths, and claws, and canines. But, I promise that we won't hurt you.

Stiles was falling, and I didn't think, I just bit him. I wasn't planning on biting Stiles, I just wanted to stop him from falling. There are two ways to become a werewolf: one is to be born, like Cora and I. The other, is to be bitten. If you survive the bite, you will become a werewolf. Because I bit Stiles, he is now my Beta. Isaac, if you want, you can become my beta, and you can join my pack. We will always protect you. You will heal faster than a human, and you can take away the pain of others. I know it's a lot to ask, but I love you, we all love you. We want to keep you safe,"

Isaac's eyes welled up with tears, in fear and in happiness. No one had ever cared for him the way Laura, Cora, and Stiles had. He would follow them anywhere. Stiles' breath hitched, knowing that his life would never be the same. He cared for his friends, loved them, and both boys knew that joining Laura's pack would be their best option.

Isaac nodded his head and took the bite without so much as a yelp. Within two hours, both boys were healing. Laura dropped both of the boys off to their homes.

"Talk to your dad, Stiles. I know this has been hard for you, especially because of what happened at Beacon Hills. But I need to go back. I'm taking Cora and Isaac; I don't want you to stay here alone. You mean too much to us, and if something were to happen while we were gone, I would never forgive myself. My brother, my pack, needs me. I need to do what I can to protect them. The only way I can do that is to go back to Beacon Hills. Please Stiles, come with us,"

And with that, the young boy nodded and walked into his home. He smiled at his father, gave him a big hug, and went into his room. The second he landed on his navy blue comforter, tears streamed down his face. Memories and flashbacks clouded his mind; images of Jackson beating him, of him swallowing fifteen pills in a day, and of the weight in his heart that dragged him deeper and deeper into his own despair.

Stiles ran a shaky hand through his hair and let out a trembling sigh. He was a werewolf now, and he had a pack; a pack that relied on him. He couldn't abandon his only friends; they weren't friends, they were family. Stiles knew what he had to do.

The next day, Stiles woke up with a heavy heart. He dreamt about his father, the disappointment and anger on his face when Stiles broke the news of their need to leave LA; how disappointed the Sheriff would be when he found out his son was a monster, in more ways than one.

But, of course, Noah Stilinski was full of surprises. And when his son came down the squeaky wooden hallway, plopped himself down on their green couch and told him everything, Noah patted the boy's knee and told him "If it would make you happy, I'd live in Antarctica with you. If you want to go back to Beacon Hills to support your friends, then we will. I love you, son. Pack your things and I'll call the Beacon Country Sheriff's Station. I'm sure they'll want me back,"

And, with that, the Stilinski's packed up their things, rented another U-Haul and drove back to the small town of Beacon Hills.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! ugh, I absolutely love Noah Stilinski. he is actually dad goals. hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles was changing.

Small changes, they were, but he still noticed.

His milky white skin was richer in color. His hair was thicker in volume, longer, and much healthier. His teeth were sparkling white, when for years his third tooth to the left of his right front tooth had been yellow. The hunch he walked with disappeared, making him appear inches taller. Stiles' scrawny arms were more muscular than ever before.

Stiles was changing, and he loved it.

His enhanced physique boosted his self-confidence up too. He raised his hand in class more, gave slight attitude to teachers, and had actual conversations with people other than Isaac, Laura, and Cora.

A smirk was almost always plastered on his now plump, red lips. Freckles and moles stood out on his skin more than ever. Stiles' long hair made him look like a model.

Within two days, the small pack and the Sheriff were packed and on the highway, roaring at 60 mph. Laura and Stiles were in one car, Isaac and Cora in the other, and the Sheriff driving the huge U-Haul truck. Laura was sitting in the drivers seat, her dark hair blowing wildly in the wind. The radio was on, a pop song blasting through the car. Laura's eyes were covered with a pair of Ray Bans and a bright smile was plastered on her face.

It was the most stunning thing Stiles had ever seen.

Laura glanced over at the younger boy, and somehow Stiles swore he could see her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Come on Stiles. I know you know the words,"

Stiles blushed a bit and gave a little smirk back. Laura laughed and nudged him with her shoulder, a sign to sing along.

"Jump in the Cadillac,"

"Girl let's put some miles on it," Stiles sung, rose pink spreading from his cheeks to his neck when Laura gave him another picture-perfect smile and complimented his voice.

It took three hours to arrive at Beacon Hills, and when they finally did, the almond sized pit in Stiles' stomach grew to the size of Michigan. Laura glanced towards Stiles and immediately noticed the horrified look on his face. She took his hand and ran her thumb over his knuckles a couple of times.

"If anyone says anything mean to you, tell me. I'll rip their throats out," Laura growled, her red eyes flashing through her usual dark orbs.

Stiles gave her a weak smile and stared out the window. Houses flew by, woods he used to wander in late at night, streets he would run down, sprinting away from Jackson and his friends.

He remembered one night, after getting beaten up by Jackson and an argument with his dad, Stiles lay in the middle of the road. His eyes were squeezed shut and all he could think of was how badly he wanted a car to come speeding down Elm Avenue and run him over.

Stiles shuddered at the memory and refocused on the task at hand. They had arrived at a small hotel, the only one in Beacon Hills. Cora, Isaac, and Laura unloaded their things from the U-Haul and bid the Stilinski's goodbye, of promises to see them tomorrow. When the Stilinski men offered help, the sisters laughed and lifted the U-Haul trailer with one hand, giving a cocky "I think we've got it" response.

And with that, the guys all shuffled into the truck and drove in the opposite direction of the apartment complex Stiles mainly grew up in.

"Stiles. For a couple years now, we've lived in that small apartment. I miss having a yard, being able to go outside naked at two o'clock in the morning and not getting screamed at. With all of the money I made in LA, I was able to buy a house. Now, don't freak out," The Sheriff quickly added when Stiles' eyes lit up like fireworks. "It's not much, but it's ours. It's.. the house your mom and I first bought together before she got sick. It means a lot to me, and it meant a lot to her,"  
  
The Sheriff took Stiles' hand and opened it. He dropped a set of keys into the boy's hand. Instead of just one key, there were two.

"Your mother left something for you in her will. You already know about it, but now that you're old enough to drive it, it's yours. Take good care of her, alright?"

And with that, they pulled up to their new home, a blue run-down jeep sitting in the driveway. In that moment, Stiles thought that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! the staura feels are so cute. don't worry though, they're just best friends :) sorry for not updating yesterday... I joined the tennis team at my high school and my first practice was brutal. also I'm terrible at the sport, which doesn't really help. I'll update asap! thank you all for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

Monday was rough.

Sheriff Stilinski had woken Stiles up at 7:30am, storming into his room and throwing cold water onto Stiles' face.

Stiles was out the door in minutes. He started up the jeep and roared his way to the hotel, picking up Cora, Isaac and Laura. They arrived the Beacon Hills High School at 8:15. A wave of dread crashed into Stiles. He took a deep breath and plastered a large smile onto his face.

Stiles was better. He wasn't a fourteen year old addict. He was a strong, intelligent sixteen year old boy who wasn't going to allow bullies to get in his way. It was different now; he had friends, loyal and wonderful friends who wouldn't let anyone hurt him.

Besides, he wasn't human anymore. No one could really hurt him.

Laura placed a warm hand on Stiles' shoulder and gave the boy a bright smile.

"Stiles. You are a different person than you were when you left. You have grown to be so intelligent and strong. I know that you can do this. Let's go in there and show everyone how much you've changed, in a good way of course,"

Everyone in the jeep smiled. The pack stumbled out, grabbed their bags, and headed into the high school.  
  
When Stiles walked in, he had imagined how it would go. Everyone would stop and stare, whispering to their friends and texting other students that there were new kids; that Stiles Stilinski was back in town.

In a way, Stiles was right. Everyone did stop and stare, they did whisper to one another, but not about Stiles. It was reasonable to understand, because the three teens next to Stiles were all gorgeous. Most likely the most attractive students in BHHS.

Cora basked in the attention, giving out flirty smiles at the boys who stared at her like she was a goddess. Laura just gave Isaac and Stiles a smile and walked down the hall, completely ignoring the staring students around her.

Stiles wished, with all of his heart, that he could one day be as confident as Laura Hale.

Laura grabbed onto Cora's arm as they made their way through the school.

"Hey, Laura. Have you texted Derek and asked him about when we are meeting up? Knowing him, he probably doesn't even have a job. He's probably sitting at home and watching a Spider-Man movie while snuggling with a puppy blanket. He's such a dork," Cora smirked at the comment and her eyes glazed as she reminisced the memories of her and Derek having superhero movies when they were younger. If anyone asked, she'd deny it.

Stiles looked down at his Spider-Man socks and glared at the ground. When he was a freshman, he never stood up for himself. His usual talkative behavior abruptly halted when Stiles got to high school. Now, he always spoke his mind, without a filter. 

"Hey, Spider-Man is the best Marvel superhero there is. Don't hate him because you'll never be as great as him,"

Laura gave a sweet giggle and Cora's smirked widened. She flashed her golden eyes at Stiles and her canines rose from her gums. "I can do a whole lot more than that spider can. He's a loser; the kid got bit by a spider!"

Isaac laughed, "Yeah, and we," Isaac pointed to Stiles. "Got bit by werewolves. Are you calling us losers?"

Cora busted into a huge fit of giggles, hunching over to grip her knees as she howled in laughter.

"Take it in what sense thou wilt,"

Laura's eyes widened in shock, "Did you just quote Shakespeare?"

Cora sent her an amused smirk, "I actually paid attention during Romeo and Juliet; you were too busy staring at Brad Linton and his 'adorable blue eyes'. The look on your face made it seem like you wanted to f---,"  
  
Cora's rant was cut short at the shrill sound of BHHS' bell. The pack lifted their hands to cover their ears at the loud sound.

"I'll never get used to that sound," Cora grumbled and grabbed onto Isaac's arm, dragging them to the Gymnasium for their first period class. Stiles had AP US History 1 with Laura. They walked towards the class in silence as Stiles tried to pretend to feel confident. He turned towards Laura to ask her about the class when he slammed into a body. When Stiles looked up, his face paled and panic rose in his chest.

"Hello Stiles,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i'm so sorry about the delay. I have been super busy these past few days. I also was unsure of how I wanted Stiles' first day back to Beacon Hills High to go! thank you for 200+ kudos, it means so much to me! and, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I have a tennis match tomorrow, but I'll update as soon as I can :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, guys! I don't really have much of an excuse as to why I haven't been writing... I just got writer's block. I'm so sorry to those who've been waiting. so, here it is! some of this might seem iffy because of the change in perspective. After Derek speaks for the first time in the story, the perspective goes BACK to Stiles and doesn't stay with Laura. ok, I promise I will update as soon as I can. thank you for all of the kudos and comments. it means so much!

Thinking about it now, Stiles hadn't shown any signs of being a werewolf. His eyes glowed, but not the usual golden sand or electric ocean blue. They were silver; a metallic, shiny gray that gleamed when the sun hit the color at just the right angle. They didn't glow when he wanted to. One night, he was sitting and playing World of Warcraft; after a tough battle against the opposite team, Stiles dropped the controller and hugged Isaac. After the hug, Stiles turned back to see the enemy slaughtering both his avatar and Isaac's. Stiles roared and his eyes flashed a bright silver-gray. Isaac stumbled away from the boy and scrambled to find Laura, screaming about how Stiles was about to kill them all.

After that, Stiles' eyes glowed but only when he felt an emotion strongly. And right now, Stiles was sitting on the linoleum floor with his old bully standing above him. A smirk was plastered onto his face as he antagonized the scrawny teen, "Oh, poor Stiles. Did you really think that we'd forget about you? After all, you're pretty famous around here; you can't kill your mother without the word getting out. Did you think you and your bitch of a father could run from Beacon Hills, from what you've done? Think again. You'll always be a pathetic excuse of a so--,"

The bully was interrupted when Stiles' fist connected with his face. In an instant, Stiles grabbed the teen's throat and slammed him against the wall. Again and again and again Stiles' pale fist smashed into the teen's face.

Adrenaline and power coursed through Stiles' veins. He could feel his eyes glowing silver, his vision was turning crystal clear, a filter on his eyes turning his vision black and white. Stiles had never felt more powerful, and he loved it.

The moment didn't last long when Laura realized what was happening. She bolted up from her place on the ground. A crowd had formed around the boys; most of them were taking pictures and videos. Laura focused her hearing and winced when she heard a girl whisper, "Whenever I put the light on that kid beating Dillon, a gleam of light comes back. I can't get a good shot of him,"

Laura ran towards the boys, but she wasn't the first one to reach them.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Stiles' froze; he fist dropped from the poor kid's face. The boy's body slumped down from the wall, a trail of smeared blood follow suit. Stiles kept his silver eyes downcast, afraid someone would see.

"Everyone, get to class, now,"

Quickly everyone dispersed leaving Stiles, the man, Dillon's body, and Laura hiding behind the wall adjacent to Stiles.

"Care to explain what the hell just happened? What's your name? You're going straight to the principal's off--,"

Stiles looked up at the man, his silver eyes dulling back to their usual whiskey brown.

* * *

Derek wasn't thinking clearly when he rushed into BHHS; he rushed through the halls, expecting the usual hum of students. Instead, it was completely quiet, except for the cheering of students all huddled in a circle. The man in Derek told him to just continue walking; the faster he got to his class and started teaching, the faster the day would end. The teacher inside of Derek, however, knew something was up. He couldn't just ignore what was happening. 

He moved through the crowd of kids until he saw what all of the fuss was about. A boy was holding an older teen by the throat with one hand, and was pounding into the older boy' face. It was gruesome; blood was splattered all over the walls. Bruises were forming all over the older boy's face. 

"What the hell is going on here?"

The boy's fist froze and everything stopped. Soon all of the students ran to their classes, and then the halls were vacant. Derek's jaw dropped when he saw the silver glow of the teen boy's eyes dull back to brown. It was then that Derek froze.

"S-Stiles?" The teacher whispered. His sea-foam ocean eyes were staring at Stiles in shock and awe. Derek couldn't believe that the fourteen-year-old boy in his 9th grade English class was standing in front of him. He looked so different, not to mention the fact that his whiskey eyes now glowed silver.

Stiles stood, tensed up, and bolted before the teacher could further ask the boy about where he had been, or why he'd left, or why his eyes suddenly glowed. 

Laura ran up to Stiles on his way to AP History. Stiles turned his head, flashed his metallic eyes, and continued on towards his first period class of his first day back.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Power was flowing through Stiles' veins and it was addicting. It was like the oxy he used to take. Waves of tranquility and security swirled in Stiles' stomach. Laura sat behind him, a worried look on her face. Everyone in the AP class had already heard of the incident with Stiles and the boy Dillion.

Stiles was a secretive person; he didn't share many things with Laura, Cora, and Isaac. The only things they really knew about the young boy was his oxycodone addiction, his bullying at school, and other basic information.

Stiles kept his eyes on the board ignoring the dumbfounded stares that seniors gave the "old new kid". He continued to write down the board's notes in his usual chicken scratch with his jaw clenched and a smug smirk plastered onto his lips. 

Stiles remembers scrambling through the white on white halls of Beacon Hills. He remembers the feelings of guilt, shame and embarrassment being the emotions he ever felt. He remembers the fear of someone noticing the cuts on his arms or how he was becoming skinnier by the second, or someone noticing the red high in his eyes that were always there. But now, things were different. He filled out, possibly more than anyone in his grade. Slender arms, built chest, well-styled hair, creamy pale skin, and whiskey eyes stood in the place of lanky arms and translucent skin. Stiles wasn't the old Stiles. He wasn't afraid anymore.

When the bell rang for the period to end, Stiles took his time leaving the class. He packed up his belongings, slung his backpack onto his right shoulder and left the haughty smirk on his lips.

The students parted from the hall like Moses did the sea; the girls that once glared at him and gossiped about how ugly he was were now slack-jawed and scrambling to get his attention.

Stiles closed his eyes briefly trying to control the bright silver that threatened to shine through his eyelids. The warmth that was flowing through him hadn't subsided yet; the longer it stayed, the more powerful he felt. With Laura, his alpha, by his side, he felt invincible. 

Every teenager believes it at one point, but every time something always happens to change that perspective.

Like when Stiles walks into his AP English class with Laura to see the man he'd longed for on his bedroom floor before passing out from an oxy overdose sitting at his old wooden desk with a book in his hands. Almost as if he sensed the burning stare that Stiles was giving him, Derek looked up.

The sight of coral green and sapphire blue swirled together with forest greens and rich soil brown took Stiles' breath away. Together, from the doorway of room 213 they were hazel. Stiles knew that there was more to them then just hazel. He had a hunch that they were green. The only way he'd find out is if he got close enough to see, and that would never happen.

He could feel the familiar burn behind his eyes that meant the change was coming, that his whiskey brown would turn to silver gray. The warm feeling in Stiles' stomach intensified by the thousands. Golden warmth buzzed in his head. His roaring headache throbbed to a dull ache, and the glaze that had originated in his eyes cleared within seconds. With Mr. Hale's eyes watching his ever move, he made his way to the back row of his class. The entity of Stiles' being was suddenly threatened. He could feel burning eyes making holes into his head as it was turned to take out his school supplies. 

The class started moments later, and it was like Stiles was a fourteen-year-old boy again. Flashbacks to the burning hunger made him throw up, the constant paranoia of someone finding out, the shame of losing his best friend over such a dumb reason like jealousy and addiction. The feelings of hopeless nights staring at his ceiling fan and wondering if he should go into his bathroom and cut his throat instead of his wrist. 

The pain he felt when he returned to find his father sitting at the kitchen table with two bottles of whiskey completely gone; the soft shine of his eyes showed his emotion. All his father cried out was "We didn't even want kids, you know. She would have lived; the stress of having a retarded son got to be too much. Sometimes I wonder why I haven't given you up for adoption yet,"

All of those emotions crashed into Stiles like a tsunami against land. His breath hitched and suddenly he was gasping for breath. The shock of his emotions surprised Stiles beyond his comrehension. It all happened so fast; Laura threw herself next to Stiles before his limp body could smash against the ground. She lifted the teenager and dragged him out of the room before anyone could utter a word.

"Stiles, Stiles come on please. You were doing so well sweetie. That's it, come on. You're so brave and strong, you can do anything. Good, good. Come on now, let's get you to the locker room and then we can talk. Okay? Yes, yes come on. One foot in front of the other dear. You're doing so good. You're such a good kid Stiles,"

Laura whispered praise after praise in a soft voice that soothed almost every ache in his body. He leaned into the motherly touch and allowed the older girl to carry him to the locker room. Once they made it to safety, Laura let out a deep sigh before turning back to the boy.

Stiles, for the most part, was settling down. Before he could even control what he was saying, he word-vomited everything he was thinking. "I sat at that desk and I looked at my 9th grade English teacher and suddenly I was a fourteen-year-old depressed introverted addict with no friends and no motivation to live. Suddenly I was flashed back to my best friend telling me that he can't be friends with a murderer, that I'm a pathetic waste of space and that only a dirty scum would come near me ever again. Suddenly I was back laying on my bedroom floor after shoving a fistful of crushed up Oxycodone down my throat, twitching and screaming as I'm about to pass out. Suddenly I'm being beaten up behind the school, being told I was never even supposed to be born. being told that the death of the only person who had ever understood me was my fault. That hopefully I'll get killed, getting threatened to be killed for retribution to the town's favorite spring baker and active town councilwoman. For killing the most loved and respected woman in Beacon Hills. Suddenly I am nothing and no one and I can-- I can't go back to being that anymore Laur... I c-can't,"

And just like he said, Stiles was back to being the scared, small boy he swore he would never be again.

That thought alone made Stiles rip his eyes open and scream. It wasn't a roar, a howl, or even a bark. It wasn't the scream of a banshee or the growl or a werejaguar. It was the scream of someone shattered beyond repair. Eyes glowed the brightest silver it ever had, and before Laura could even stand up to somehow react to her young beta's -could she even call him that if he isn't a were?- confession, the supernatural creature ripped open the locker room door and bolted out of Beacon Hills High School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are zero excuses that I can make to amend the pregnant gap I left between chapter 11 and chapter 12. guys, I'm super sorry. Life caught up to me really fast. but that isn't good enough. I swear on my life I'm going to update at least weekly, if not more. I'm hoping to turn this fic into a beast, and I think it's time for me to beef up these chapters! I'll be consistent, I swear. Thank you for all the kudos and support! Hope you enjoy!


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